


Best Served Cold

by fragilespark



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Abuse, Blood Magic, Blood Play, Bondage, Demon Sex, Other, demon shapeshifting, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2018-05-08 06:27:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5486987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilespark/pseuds/fragilespark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Templar Carver has a crush on Grace, but little does he know she has plans for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Grace had plenty of time for herself, when Alain wasn’t following her around like a pathetic puppy. Starkhaven’s templars hadn’t all been friendly, but there was a time when she would have welcomed the odd kindness or conversation. Now Kirkwall’s stony silence suited her. The younger recruits often had an air of wishing they could make conversation, but most of them turned as serious and sullen as she had become.

She could see now why Decimus had burnt the Circle down. The endless days, knowing there was a choice, knowing she could seize the power at her disposal. There was only one reason why she waited. One thing she wanted more. The whispers of Ser Thrask’s plans made it almost certain.

When he passed her in the corridor and smiled, she smiled back.

Hawke was hers.

 

“You know you’re not allowed to ask that,” Carver said gently to a young mage, “but once you’re older, maybe you can transfer to another Circle?”

He hadn’t seen her yet.

Grace waited until the child had left the library before emerging from the doorway.

Carver looked over as he put a book away. “Oh, hello.”

“Do you want some help?”

“No, no, it’s fine. This is the last one.” He slipped it into place with a thunk, looking very absorbed in the task.

“I suppose a little book is no hard work to you.” Grace looked up at the top shelf as she approached him. “Why do you think they put the biggest ones at the top? So we have to ask for help. So you can ask why we need it so much.”

“I never thought of it that way.” He glanced down and, seeing her so close, looked away again.

“You’re very good with the little ones.”

“Oh… thanks.” He rubbed his cheek with the heel of his hand and smiled at the compliment. “Have you ever thought of being a tutor?”

“Even if they’ll let me, you think I should?”

“I don’t know. You’re always kind.”

A tiny shrug. “To you.”

Carver licked his lips and shifted on his feet. “I… should… be going.”

Grace sighed. “Yes Ser.”

“Look, I don’t- I mean-” Carver squirmed like a fish caught in a net, “another time.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” She reminded him boldly as he left.

 

While she enjoyed sweet-talking Carver - he was easy on the eyes after all - it was harder to be pleasant to the templars who were slowly coming together to “bring about change”. Their stupid ideas would never take hold and there was nothing they could do against real power. She doubted the meetings would end in anything other than them getting caught but eventually she got wind of a plan to get the Champion’s attention.

“I have something in mind.” She said to Thrask. She had not pushed her agenda like the other mages, she had not even been involved until now, only confided in, due to her past involvement. Thrask trusted her. The fool.

“I welcome your suggestion.”

“I do not see how it would work, without… help.”

“I see. Do you need some heads looking the other way, then?” It was said in incredibly hushed tones. “You know I can’t do that for anything other than the most careful plan.”

“You’re already leaving site for a meeting, what’s a few more people?”

His eyes narrowed. “If you are proposing to leave the Gallows with other mages…”

Grace shook her head. “Not at all. In fact, it will be a Templar escort.” She tried not to smile. Earnest and helpful. “Her brother.”

“We had considered… but how do we involve him? He may not be able to reason with her, and we do not want Meredith’s ire upon him.”

“He can remain blameless. On either side.”

They stalled their conversation for a while from caution, but Thrask soon found her again, his curiosity needing to hear the logical solution.

“Bait.” She whispered. The single word deepened the frown lines on his face as he thought it out.

“Go on.”

“Don’t even tell the others. I will take him away, and bring him to your location. The Champion will have no choice but to meet us on our terms, and listen.” It was what Thrask wanted to hear. Grace had no inclination to negotiate.

“I will need to organise it, but I will not tell them who it is. And you will handle her brother?”

“Oh yes,” she said, before she could stop herself.

Thrask was lost in thought. “A chaperoned mage. It could work.” He tried a brief smile. “You have been good here, Grace. It should not be difficult to arrange, but we must be cautious. I will be in touch when we are ready.”

 

She was not surprised to see him in the library again, although she expressed the right amount of coyness at being alone in the room with him again. Carver was also reluctant to meet her gaze, itself an acknowledgement of her flirting, of the knowledge they both had that it could never lead to anything.

How many templars had designs on her, Grace wondered, as she wandered to his side, less direct in her approach than last time. How many had in Starkhaven.

“Good morning.” He said, the only polite thing to do.

She smiled. “It’s awful out there.”

He ducked his head, letting out an awkward laugh. “I know. But maybe it’ll get better?”

“I think it will.”

Carver caught her meaning and walked around the table, picking up stray papers that the apprentices had left.

“Seems a waste to have you in here, when you’re such a good fighter. Their loss is my gain though.”

“Well, we… rotate patrols and…” Carver glanced at the doors. “You shouldn’t really… speak to me like that.”

“You the templar, or you the man?”

He stood a little straighter, and didn’t answer.

“I thought you liked me being kind.”

“I do… that is…” He scrunched the papers in his hand.

“But I’m to be silent about my thoughts.”

“No. Not that.” He shook his head. “You shouldn’t change, Grace.”

She liked the brave hesitation as he said her name. He really was too honest. At least one part of this was going to be easy.

“I’ve been speaking to Ser Thrask. He’s given me permission to help a templar investigate a hideout I once used.”

“Oh? That sounds interesting.”

“You should speak to him about it. See when you can fit it in.”

“Me?”

“Of course you. Who else would I ask?” She smiled.

He returned it, wryly. “I don’t suppose you’ll let me say no to a stroll with you.”

“There really is something I want there. But yes, what’s wrong with going for a walk together? Gallows-approved, of course.”

“Right.” He sounded sweetly exasperated, but Grace was sure part of him was longing to break free.

 

“Tomorrow.” Thrask said as he walked past. That was all she needed.


	2. Chapter 2

“So this is where you went when you ran away?” Carver said, hand on the hilt of his blade, stepping over the furthest shore of the Wounded Coast.

“Yes. It wasn’t where we were caught, but we stayed for a few days.” She let him lead towards the shipwreck. “Sure you won’t get rusty?”

He scoffed. “We stand out in the rain with these. It gets heavy underneath, and really uncomfortable, but it’s damage that makes it rust.”

Grace felt a thrill go through her. Better and better. Any excuse for the smitten couple pretense to play out. She wouldn’t have to expend so much energy having her way. There was time before she had to deliver him to Thrask, and she knew exactly what she was going to do with it. She knew Hawke was powerful, but she was going to inflict her revenge on them one way or another.

Carver peered into the disintegrating hull. “Doesn’t look as if it’s been used for a while. Though… come here, you might find what you’re looking for.” He held his hand out to her and pulled her from her wading. He blushed as her sopping dress clung to her legs, ushering her in.

“The things we do to get away, huh?” Grace said, as she wrung it out.

Carver lifted each leg, stepping from foot to foot.

“I’m sorry,” Grace said, “I hope we find something after all this. Let’s take a break thought first, yes? And dry off. Do you want some help?”

“No, I’ve got this.” He started unclasping his armour, without realising her prompting had led his thought process. He probably wouldn’t have taken his armour off in the first place.

She waited until he was clear before pressing her wet dress against his back.

“Grace!” Carver’s voice turned hushed after his surprise. “Maker, please. We can’t do this.”

“I’m not trying to make you a bad templar,” she said meekly, “just… let me hold you like this.”

He complied, and Grace could feel his heart pounding under her hand. His chest heaved, and she felt the hitch as he swallowed, the tension in his muscles before he turned around.

Grace didn’t move. It would have to be his decision.

Carver bent down and kissed her, lightly, as if the way out was through and it would satisfy their desire and be over with. The way he lingered told her he hadn’t convinced himself.

She knew the templars had outlets for their needs and knew what Carver wanted ran a lot deeper than that.

“I love you.” She pulled back, and didn’t wait for his reaction. “We really are wet,” she mumbled, “we really should…”

He pulled her back to him. “Grace, how can you… oh, Maker. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Let’s just dry off.” She pulled herself from his grasp and turned around before undoing her dress. His hands went to her bare arms as it slid off, but he let go, a wooden beam creaking as he sat on it.

His conflict was almost palpable, but as delicious as the charade was, she was not here to lead him aimlessly.

She turned, “I won’t get another chance,” and kissed him hard.

Carver’s arms went around her and she allowed it, fingers creeping under his tunic and nails dragging down his back. He hissed and Grace climbed on his lap, pressing against his crotch.

So much lust. Perfect.

Grace reached for his wrists. She called a shock of power through her and bound him up to a beam.

“What-”

She quelled his panic. “Shhh. It’s better with magic. Trust me. Haven’t you ever done this before?”

He flushed, looking up at his hands. “I haven’t done _this_ , no…”

Grace took the small knife he carried and cut through his shirt, ripping it open, and nicking his skin as she did.

“Ah-! Careful with that!”

“Sorry.” she kissed him, one hand moving down his chest, and it seemed he was momentarily appeased again. But the power within her was building, ready, singing for one that could respond to both their desires. His, for affection. Hers, for revenge. She almost threw the dagger at the wall in frustration but she had prepared for this moment a long time. She was ready. As Carver’s blood welled to the surface of the cut, she took the plunge, and opened up to the Fade.

 

The demon had barely ghosted into view before Grace issued her first command. “Drain his power.” If he stopped her, it would all go very wrong for them both.

“Grace, no! This isn’t whatmmmh!” She covered his mouth with her hand as the desire demon took shape behind him, the rivulet of blood going up as it fed their power.

“It’s dangerous for you to be able to stop me. What if I can’t heal you? You’ll want me to after I’m done, trust me.” Grace had no expectation that he would trust her now. She let go of his face and locked eyes with Desire, who was very interestedly taking in the scene.

“He is mine. And he is to stay alive.”

The voice was an echo before it began, within her mind but as real as the waves breaking on the shore. “He may be your plaything, but I am not. Unless you wish to be mine.” The chuckle was seductive and Grace’s mind briefly gave her an image of being claimed by this creature.

“I want you to fuck him.”

Desire’s voice deepened. “I can take a male form, if you wish.”

“No. As you are. Just,” Grace gestured impatiently, “grow a cock. A big one.”

“Do you have enough to offer to command me so?”

Grace went over to Carver. “He’s a big boy. He has plenty of blood.”

Carver protested but she bound his mouth shut. “You’ll get us caught.”

“Very well.” Desire clawed Carver’s breeches down and broke off the weak beam under him, leaving him to support himself on his knees.

Grace watched for the transformation expectantly, but Desire seemed focused on cooing at Carver instead, making his eyes flutter at images and desires unknown to her. “No! I want him to know. I want him to be punished!”

“I am waiting,” came the echo, “or are you too weak after all?”

Grace slashed the knife across Carver’s chest, making him cry out. Blood misted from the wound and Desire leeched it into their body, taking the shape that Grace wanted. “You understand,” she said, leaning in and biting Carver’s ear as he turned away, “your sister is to blame for this. Would you want me to hurt her instead? Or are you going to take it for her?”

Carver’s breath came out shuddered as Desire reached between his legs. Whatever they were doing, it made him unresistant, and Grace bristled at not being the one in control. “You do what I say, demon!”

“My, what a mixed up mage we have here.” They nuzzled against Carver’s cheek. “So eager to prove herself mistress of all. Be careful you do not invite other demons in my wake.” They penetrated Carver and he bucked against his restraint, his muffled yell deafening in the enclosed space.

“I know exactly what I want,” Grace said coldly, and smacked Carver across the face. It was… what she wanted. To make him suffer. She watched his body shake as Desire fucked him. It was what she wanted. She knelt in front of him and bit into his shoulder, eliciting another harsh cry. She bit until she drew blood, until she felt it dripping from her lips and Desire kissed her, sucking it from her.

She pressed against Carver. He was nothing but bait. She couldn’t go too far without ruining her plans.

“You think this is enough? Do you know what you have got yourself into? This boy is bargaining far better than you ever could. It’s a shame he’s no mage, really.”

“It’s _my_ magic. I summoned you!”

“Not for this. You want to see pain on the girl’s face. You want her to look at his weak body and offer to do anything to make amends… and then kill her, slowly.”

_That_ was what she wanted. More than anything.

Carver howled his protest at the plan and Grace grabbed his discarded gauntlet, pressing the points of the fingers hard against his stomach. “Don’t think I’m done with you, just because you’re getting out of here alive.” His skin was sweaty, his body tense against the abuse. She clawed down over and over again until the red welts bled into one another.

“You will need to bind him completely, if you want him unharmed. You cannot protect and sacrifice him at the same time, you will need to offer another.”

Grace felt the sway of the demon’s words, and didn’t know whose idea it was, but the thought of also killing those who oppressed her… it was a satisfying thought. Maybe Carver had done enough, after all. She was bored of his humiliation and pain, when there were bigger prizes to be had.

“Heal him.”

Desire purred and withdrew from Carver, closing every wound, soothing every aching muscle. His head fell forward.

“Bind him, like you said. And clothe him. And bring him with you when you follow.” She was sure a demon could do all these things.

“There is a great price to pay for this. Remember.”

“I know!” Grace retorted in frustration, “you will have plenty of bodies, so take your pick!”

Desire smiled. “I will.”


End file.
